


I've Waited Here For You

by Lokisgame



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-09
Updated: 2017-09-09
Packaged: 2018-12-25 12:16:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12035697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lokisgame/pseuds/Lokisgame
Summary: Mulder wished he was that guy, who climbed in next to her, who lived on her side of the line.





	I've Waited Here For You

When he asked her to wait for him at the morgue, after she finished the autopsy, he didn't expect to actually find and apprehend the suspect, with the murder weapon in hand, basically closing the case with some help from local law enforcement. 

She slept curled up on her side, curve of her waist begging to be touched and Mulder wished he was that guy, who climbed in next to her, who lived on her side of the line. He wasn't, not yet, and the couch in the ME's office was too small anyway.  
Kneeling by the sofa and resting one hand on her shoulder, he was grateful for being allowed to do that, her friendship wasn't someting he scoffed at.  
“Scully? Why didn't you go back to the motel?" He asked as she looked around blindly, reorienting herself by half sitting up, pulling up the coat she used as a blanket.  
"What time is it?"  
"Way past your bedtime" he chuckled, arranging her shoes so that she could slip her feet inside them easily… and fighting the urge to call her 'baby'.  
She wasn't his 'baby', she wasn't a baby at all, but at 3am, when snow covered the streets and the world seemed hushed and untouched, he knew that if there ever was anyone who could be his baby, it was her.  
"Come on, I'll take you back to the motel"  
Scully dropped her feet to the ground feeling around for shoes, then felt his hand on her ankle, guiding her and smiled ready to look at him properly, she did, and saw the scrapes on his face and hands.  
"What happened?" awake in an instant she touched his cheek, tilting his face to the light.  
"Nothing, a little chase through some backyards, EMTs checked me out, I'm fine"  
"Mulder" her tone was filled with guilt for leaving him alone.  
"Come on, I could use some sleep too" he tried to distract her, but her hand still prodded around the shallow wounds, fingers running through his hair, M.D. mode in full swing.  
Over the years those gestures became embedded in his psyche, synonymous with safety, the message simple, I'm safe, she's here. And, for some time now, he also believed she felt something similar, because she did it every time, almost unconsciously, even if his injury had nothing to do with his head. He never said anything, never pushed away her hand, she cared, and who was he to turn down care.  
Doctor Scully must've been pleased with the results, because she got up, suddenly towering over him, draping the coat over her shoulders. "You need a shower" she stated bluntly.  
"A long one, dumpster landing" he chuckled, following her.  
"I want to hear that story"  
"I'll probably fall asleep in the middle of it" he grabbed her bag on their way out "you mind waiting till morning?"  
"I don't think so" she turned around, her voice a stage whisper "I like a good bedtime story."

Later, at the motel, with one towel around his hips and another energetically rubbing over his scalp, he heard a knock on the connecting door.  
"Come in"  
"Can I borrow…" he heard Scully begin to ask, but she trailed off mid-sentence, her eyes dropping to the floor as if made of lead not cobalt "your sweatshirt"  
Silence fell, Mulder felt the cold rushing through the door.  
“Something happened?” He went to his suitcase, draping the towel around his neck and trying to act casual, ignoring the fact he was practically naked in front of HER. His partnercrushdoctorcrushfriend… slash, he meant slash.  
“The heating in my room isn’t working” she replied, low enough to make him look over his shoulder.  
Suddenly it rained sleeping bags. His room was toasty warm, probably the only nice thing about this place, next to the hot water and the queen sized bed.  
“You can stay here” he said, turning around to face her, thinking friendly, non-threatening thoughts. _Don’t run, it’s me, don’t run Scully._  
“Mulder” He was almost sure she’ll say something about intruding, trouble or imposing, or worse, protocol. He wouldn’t have that, they were past that, the moment he slept in her arms, injured in the middle of the forest.  
“If you don’t mind sharing” he added, might as well have that in the open, and surprisingly, this truth broke the tension in the room for a moment.  
“Geez, Mulder” she sighed rolling her eyes, he knew that look, and he knew that sigh “just get dressed” She took a step and closed the door from the inside. His watch on the nightstand beeped 4am, their minds must’ve really been clouded.  
“Yes ma’am” he chuckled and threw her the shirt. He dressed with his back to her, cotton pants and a t-shirt, then hung the towels on the railing in the bathroom, killing the overhead lights on his way back. She already climbed in, covering herself up to her chin with both arms hidden under the sheets. Mulder knew that sleep was unlikely, but lying next to her, he kept still and quiet, so much that he could hear her breath hitch and shudder, still shivering.  
They looked at each other in the faint glow, suddenly aware they were acting like two teens before first-time-sex, and how ridiculous it was between them.  
“Can I?” They spoke in unison and burst out laughing. Mulder drew her close as she rolled to her side, her back to his front, his arms around her, cold feet at his calfs, warm fingers smoothing her hair, tucking them behind her ear. It all felt right, the tug and pull and rustle of sheets around them, a punch to the pillow, trying to restore some of it’s forgotten plumpness, his warmth, her softness. They settled quickly, accepting the other’s vulnerability, 4am could be their don’t-ask-don’t-tell moment.  
“Try to sleep Scully” Mulder said, pressing his lips to her shoulder, “Sherif told me, he won’t be coming in before 9am, we got plenty of time”  
She didn’t reply, just nodded, the warmth spreading through her bones like liquor, like wine, making her aching body relax.  
She felt his breath warm her through the fabric, measured breathing of another human being. She thought she didn’t need it anymore, she told herself it wasn’t something she needed to feel whole. Only the thing about Mulder, was that he made her feel more, whatever they did. When they worked, she felt competent, vital to the process, appreciated. He even once thanked her, after she shot him.  
Now they were here, and if she’d think to plan it, she’d probably think how big he was, how the length of him would feel against her back, she did sometimes, alone in her bed with a trusted not-so-little-helper. She might still think about this moment later, puzzling over ‘if-s’ and ‘how-s', in broad strokes and fine detail. Right now however, it was just him, just Mulder, his body settling from a deliberate hold into relaxed knot of limbs, breaths and heartbeats. Desire cuddled with love in a sweet limbo, desiring love, loving the desire, too tired to decide on one or the other.  
“I wish we could do this more often” she said into the darkness, setting the thought free so that she too could retire.  
“We will” Mulder whispered hugging her closer, his voice a deep rumble she more felt than heard. Maybe he wanted her heart to know something, before her mind did. 

Peach pink sunrise peeked shyly into their room through the open curtains, touching their eyelids with gentle fingers.  
Scully welcomed it, stretching in bed with a satisfied moan, feeling refreshed and rested.  
Mulder, with his arm draped over her stomach and head pillowed on her shoulder, groaned and hid his face in the crook of her neck, mumbling about five more minutes.  
Used to insomnia, once he finally fell asleep, it was almost impossible to wake him without some kind of incident. Right now she was amused and slightly embarrassed by the morning wood pressed into her thigh. Not because he had one, but because she was sorely tempted to do something about it.  
“Do I get a kiss good morning?” He joked and started to untangle himself, when she stopped him.  
“Five more minutes” she whispered, surprising herself.  
They sagged back into the knot they woke up in, now deliberately prolonging the moment, testing it in the gentle light of the morning.  
Her fingers ran through his hair, undemanding yet confident, an undeniable caress.  
The reality of it hit him and he wondered if anything could ever feel this real forever. If anything could ever be this good again.

**Author's Note:**

> I know I'm recycling. Hope you enjoyed nonetheless.


End file.
